


5 Times Jim Didn't Want to Talk, the 1 Time He Let Someone Else Talk, and the 1 Time He Wanted to Talk

by Daiya_Darko



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daiya_Darko/pseuds/Daiya_Darko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim’s never had a difficult time explaining his emotions, but he’s also never had something so painful happen to him. It shakes him to his core, and he would rather sit in silence, distracted by everything else than speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times Jim Didn't Want to Talk, the 1 Time He Let Someone Else Talk, and the 1 Time He Wanted to Talk

  **5) Uhura**

He hates that she seems to have a radar that can pick out when someone is hurt. Not just physical injuries, but emotional ones. She was right there for Spock when Vulcan was destroyed. She was there when Pike died.

On any other day, Jim would welcome her warm touch, her kind, soft words, but he doesn’t need that right now.

Jim avoids Uhura like the plague, because he knows if she corners him for too long, she’ll get under his skin and see how _weak_ and _pathetic_ he actually is inside. He can’t allow that vulnerability again, so whenever she gives him a sympathetic look, Jim finds something to do on the other side of the ship on a different level. On the off chance that he runs into her and she stills him with, a firm, “Jim,” he makes an excuse to leave.

Every time, she doesn’t seem hurt either - only worried.

Uhura is too nice, way too nice to a person like him who ultimately had this coming.

 

**4) Spock**

Like Uhura, her boyfriend is especially attuned to emotional distress. Jim doesn’t know how he’s supposed to function already without showing any sign of emotional pain on top of keeping his mind clear of the whole thing so that Spock doesn’t know. It’s more stress than it’s worth, and Jim finds himself getting headaches and migraines more often than he’s ever had.

When Spock offers a gentle hand to alleviate the pain, reaching for Jim, he smacks his hand away, falling back on shaky footing.

“Captain, I have no intentions to harm you,” Spock says, his voice barely tinged with sad concern.

_How many people know?_

Jim apologizes and excuses himself for the rest of the day, fighting down the urge to cry or vomit. He trusts Spock with his life, and now he flinches from the familiar touch. It makes Jim feel like an asshole, guilt consuming him for hiding away from everyone he’s supposed to trust. They must think I’m crazy, he worries. They’re going to have me stripped of my command.

 

**3) Carol**

He doesn’t blame Carol for trying, honestly. They’ve toed a weird line since she’s been on board, somewhere between “friends” and “maybe you can spend the night once or twice,” that Jim now feels he can’t keep up. He doesn’t mean to push her away, but she’s in his space and he needs space. He doesn’t need her attempts at domestication right now, how she keeps leaving things like a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and how Jim has to keep putting it back. He doesn’t need her grabbing him right now, forcing herself into his space.

“Jim, something happened to you and you need to talk about it!” Carol insists, grabbing his hands in her own. Jim finds himself getting angry at the idea that he needs anything other than private time alone to nurse his wounds. _Who does she think she is? Does she know what I’ve been through?_

_She would if I told her._

“I told you, I’m fine! It was just more stressful than usual,” Jim lies through a dry throat and cracked lips. “I don’t need to talk about anything except you getting out of my quarters and not coming back unless I’ve officially summoned you!”

Carol looks hurt, and Jim feels bad again. Still, she steels her shoulders and nods curtly, walking towards the door. “I can tell when I’m not wanted and I won’t sit here and be abused - ”

“You don’t know the first thing about abuse!” Jim nearly screams at her, breathless. He can feel his heart racing wildly as images flash through his head, the smells coming back to him, the feeling of rough hands forcing him face first into dirt.

“Jim?” Carol asks, running back to where he’s now kneeling on the floor, gasping madly for air. He hears her voice, echoed and distant even though she’s close by. She’s ordering Bones to the room, saying “Come quickly! I don’t know what’s wrong with him but he’s not responding and he can’t breathe!” Carol rubs his back in small, soothing circles and tries to calm Jim.

Such gentleness in her hands make Jim cry, and as he hyperventilates, the tears begin to fall forth.

By the time Bones gets there with a few nurses, Jim is crying into the carpet hysterically in between gasps for breath. He hears Bones give a short order for everyone to leave them by themselves, and then it’s just him and Bones.

 

**2) Bones**

“Jim?” Bones calls softly, keeping his distance even as he kneels on the floor in front of him. “Can you hear me?”

Jim tries to answer, but only manages a short nod.

“Is it okay if I help you up onto the bed?”

Again, Jim nods, sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to slow his sobbing. He’s dizzy and his muscles don’t respond properly, Bones lifts him by his shoulders into a standing position. As soon as they’re upright, Jim throws his arms around Bones, hiding his face Bones’ shoulder as he continues to cry. He feels so ashamed of himself, not just for what happened, but the fact that others saw him in such a moment of weakness. He hates feeling this way, hates wanting to cry and then feeling as if he’s going to die all over again.

Bones is silent as he rubs Jim’s back, hushing him with soft words of comfort and support. “I know you’ve been holding it in, Jim. It’s okay to let it out.” Bones doesn’t try to make him talk about what happened, because he has the medical report. He did Jim’s examination himself, saw the bruises and cuts and foreign substances all over. He saw Jim shaking on the biobed in scrubs, angry, terrified, and humiliated, but refusing to cry.

“You’re so strong, Jim,” Bones whispers into Jim’s hair, kissing the side of his head, “And no one is asking you to be.”

It’s that quiet acceptance of Jim for who he is that makes him love Bones and lets him hold him like this when he’s refused everyone else.

 

**1) Spock Prime**

Jim hesitantly allowed Bones to make a few calls, but ultimately trusted his judgment. Still, he’s surprised when Spock from the other timeline appears on his vid screen, calmness etched into the lines and wrinkles of his face.

“Greetings, Jim.”

Jim nods. “Spock.”

“I was told you may want to speak with me, but Doctor McCoy sounded somewhat upset. Is everything alright?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Jim remembers the exercises Bones showed him for controlling his anxiety. “I want to know how Vulcans deal with trauma.”

Spock cocks his head in confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Is everything alright with my younger counterpart?”

“He’s fine. I’m just curious if there are certain methods or techniques to deal with trauma victims.”

“Well,” Spock begins, “It depends on each Vulcan how he or she decides to deal with their pain. Ask Spock, for instance, how he coped after the destroying of our home and loss of our mother.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same in my case...” Jim trails off, beginning to feel his body perspire.

“What has happened to you, Jim? I hope you know you can trust my confidentiality.”

“I know, and it’s not that. It’s just that I’m not ready to talk about what happened, and I can’t really function until I do. It’s interfering with my relationships with others, but I just don’t trust anyone who isn’t Bones to really be near me or touch me right now,” Jim replies sheepishly, focusing on his hands. He has a brief flashback to what his hands have done and he swallows dryly, his stomach churning in knots.

Spock falls silent as a look of understanding falls over his face. “Whoever hurt you...have they faced punishment?”

A murderous glint flickers in Jim’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Did you seek the justice out yourself?”

“Yes.”

“You sought revenge and yet you do not feel better. Do you feel this was somehow your fault?”

Jim pauses. “Yes. I know it isn’t, but I can’t help but blame myself. If I hadn’t - "

“It isn’t what you did or didn’t do; all that matters is you have survived a great deal and you will come to move past these dark days when you are ready. Do not force yourself to talk, or you’ll find yourself resentful of the person you speak to. All you need to know is this: it was not your fault. Whatever you come out of this experience with, remember that.”

Biting his lip, Jim rubs away a stray tear. “Thank you,” he says, voice rough with held in tears.

Spock gives him one last sympathetic look and lifts his hand. “Take care of yourself, Jim. Live Long and Prosper.”

 

**+1 Chekov**

“Captain!” Jim turns his head to acknowledge the familiar accent, but doesn’t stop walking.

“How can I help you, Chekov?”

“Have you read the personal files of your bridge crew and senior officers?”

That makes Jim stop in his tracks. That’s a strangely odd and specific question, but not out of line. Most captains usually do to ensure they have the right people working together. Jim admits he only scanned over everyone’s psych evals, but that’s it.

“Please read mine, under medical history. Then, come speak to me.” Chekov nods and disappears before Jim can even ask what that’s all about, leaving him to decipher his strange request. As he continues walking to his quarters, Jim pulls up Chekov’s medical history, unsure of what he’s supposed to be looking for. The kid’s up to date on immunizations, has no allergies, hell, hasn’t been sick in three years. Bones probably loves the kid for being the glittering example of good health with his ideal cholesterol and blood sugar levels.

And then Jim swipes to the next page and his heart nearly freezes at the hospital visits. Broken bones, pulled muscles, dislocated joints are usual for Starfleet cadets; the training is rigorous, even on the officer track. But there’s also a rape kit noted on Chekov’s file, the same night he was treated for multiple lacerations, a few fractured bones, and a concussion.

Jim slips into his room and reads over Chekov’s psych eval from that night: _Shows no signs of psychological distress, yet refuses to name attackers - unclear memory of events, but aware of what has happened to him. Patient has frequent night terrors in bed, but unable to remember them upon waking._

Underneath, another entry is made by the doctor clearing Chekov for training and duty. Jim almost throws the PADD across the room in frustration; they knew Chekov wasn’t alright and still let him out? And why didn’t he know about this if it occurred on campus? If the attackers were students, they could have just done a DNA scan from what they found on Chekov.

Upset, Jim orders Chekov to report to him, disbelieving of the fact that Starfleet hadn’t made it public about something this egregious occurring. _How many have gone unreported?_

When the door chimes, Jim barks for Chekov to enter, and the kid looks as if he already knows what Jim’s going to ask.

“I did not want to cause a scene.”

“But they - ”

“Would have came back to finish the job if I had. Starfleet is not as perfect as you would think, clearly,” Chekov says quickly, cutting Jim off.

Jim sits back down on his bed and thinks about what Chekov has been through, had to have gone through, and at such a young age. “Did you tell your friends?”

Chekov shakes his head. “I had no friends at that point. I had no family. I had no one to go to.”

“God,” Jim whispers, “How did you manage?”

“May I sit?” Chekov asks, and Jim scoots over to give him space. Once he’s seated, Chekov continues, “I went to survivor meetings. I took self-defense classes. I went to a range and learned how to shoot. I kept forcing myself to go through the motions of what I should do and ignored what I was feeling.”

“Did it help?”

Chuckling quietly, Chekov nods. “It did in some ways. I was a threat. The problem was I was always a threat. I had become a loaded gun with no safety. Everyone was a potential rapist. If I was on the tram, I would get so nervous about being in an enclosed place with a lot of people that I would have panic attacks. I did not sleep well for fear of someone coming in to get meI had taught myself to trust no one, but I had not taught myself to accept what happened. When I met Hikaru, it was actually because he was following me to our dorms and I thought he was following me to attack me. I learned the hard way that assuming everyone is out to get you is counterproductive to essentially everything.”

“What happened?”

“I swung on him and invalidated all my self-defense classes in one fell swoop,” Chekov laughs like he didn’t have a flashback. “I started having a panic attack and he just sat next to me to make sure I was alright after. I told him everything that happened at that moment, I think because I was so desperate to tell anyone, someone, what was done to me, and he listened. He did not know me, but he stayed with me, walked me to my room, and from then on, we have been inseparable. He watches my back for me, but he also gives me my space.”

Jim mulls over Chekov’s story in his head, trying to make sense of how this could apply to him. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“I know you are not, but that is because you thought you had no one to talk to. Doctor McCoy knows, because he asked me to talk to you. He cares about you and would not judge you.”

“But he hasn’t - ”

“Neither has Hikaru, but I did not know that at the time. I just knew I could trust him.”

“Do you make it a habit of friending strangers now, after...?”

“Captain, _Jim_ , all friends are strangers until you let them in,” Chekov explains. “And your friends are only as close as you will allow them to be. I consider you a friend.”

“Well I should hope,” Jim laughs quietly. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Pavel,” Jim tries, finding Chekov’s first name strangely pleasant on his tongue. “If you ever need to talk - ”

“No, Jim, if _you_ need to talk. I have talked and talked and explained to people why I don’t like being touched from behind; now, it is your turn to tell people why they cannot touch you without your permission.”

In spite of how relieved he feels, Jim feels tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I was trying not to get emotional...” Jim trails off into a choked out laugh as he wipes away the tears before they fall. “You must think it’s weird seeing your captain acting so weak.”

“No,” Chekov says quietly, “It is not weakness to feel. Feeling means you are dealing with it and confronting your problems head on is the bravest thing a captain can do.”

 

**+1 Bones (reprise)**

Chekov bids Jim a good night, leaving him alone with his thoughts, but for the first time in a month, Jim doesn’t want to be alone. Chekov’s words got to him, and now he’s ready to finally open up to someone. He privately comms Bones, asking him to come by, and tries to prepare his words. He wishes he could be as relaxed about it as Chekov about the whole thing, but the more he prepares, the less he actually is, until Bones chimes at the door.

Jim lets him in, offering a weak smile. “I spoke to Chekov.” He moves aside to allow Bones entry, then adds, “Some of what he said got through to me.”

“Oh? Something finally made it through that thick skull of yours?” Bones asks jokingly, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, but for starters, let me tell you that I’m not a victim,” Jim announces defiantly.

Bones rolls his eyes and snaps, “It’s okay to be one, you know. That doesn’t necessarily make you weak or anything. Clearly, nothing Chekov said got through to you.”

Jim’s stoic expression wavers, and his arms fall to his side.

“I mean, you can think of yourself as whatever you want, but don’t be afraid to be considered a victim. You went through a seriously traumatic experience that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. It’ll go a lot easier if you just stop fighting this notion that you have to...be someone or something for the sake of your crew. All we want is you to be happy.” Bones looks like he’s briefly regretful of exploding on Jim, but Jim’s thankful. He’s tired of everyone treating him like a fragile butterfly as of late, afraid to trigger their captain into a panic attack (Carol must have said something, because Bones would have ripped a nurse a new one).

With a slow, shuddery sigh, Jim says, “Thanks, Bones.”

“No problem,” is his only reply, because Jim immediately launches into an account of what happened. It’s not the brief, clinical description of a few words that Bones jotted on the official report; it’s long-winded, interrupted by pauses for Jim to regroup his nerves. He visibly trembles, but Bones keeps his distance on the bed, occasionally reminding Jim that they’re on the ship, not back on Eurydice 6.

“I think I wouldn’t have been so affected, except I’m the captain. The entire time I was worried that the others had been captured too and something just as bad or worse was happening to them. I began to blame myself for anything that happened to them because I wasn’t paying attention where I was walking. I know better than to go off on my own, but I did anyways.”

“You managed to bring wanted criminals to justice, Jim. You found who we were looking for.”

“And they sure made it known. Sometimes I can smell the dirt in my nose, like when I go to visit the fauna lab. Or it’s the smell on Sulu’s shirt. I don’t tell him, but it makes me nervous when he walks by. I hate having my chair facing forward, when the door is behind me. Anyone could come in, and I would be none the wiser.”

“Would you feel better if we added a security detail to the bridge?” Bones suggests softly.

“No,” Jim sighs. “I would just feel like I’m a burden.”

“Jim, if it would honestly make you more comfortable, post two security officers on the bridge. They’ve got nothing better to do anyways, trust me,” Bones scowls briefly. “Four of them ended up in my sickbay yesterday for trying to crush things with their heads. I swear, they’re actually just Marine flunk outs who couldn’t go back home.”

Jim laughs and reaches over for Bones’ hand. “I’ll think about it.”

Bones squeezes Jim’s hand in his own. “Good. Anymore panic attacks?”

“No. Felt like I might, but then I didn’t.”

“Nightmares?”

“A few. I dreamed I was there again, mostly.”

Bones hums quietly. “That’s normal. Let me know if it gets to be too much?”

“Yeah,” Jim smiles. “Thanks for coming by and listening.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jim,” Bones waves his hand in dismissal. “I’m your friend; it’s what I’m supposed to do.”

Jim leans into Bones’ shoulder, taking in his surroundings and the simple quiet of his quarters. Bones doesn’t smell like dirt, and thinking about it, Bones has never smelled unclean. It’s become a comfort to Jim now, and he’s thankful Bones lets him ruin his shirts with tear and snot stains.

“Bones?”

“Yes Jim,” Bones says, voice quiet.

“When will I stop feeling gross every time I...become aroused? I did down there, but I didn’t want to be. They forced me to, to come, and I didn't want to."

Bones sighs, low and heavy, and turns his head to bury his nose in Jim’s hair while he thinks. “I guess that’ll take time. Our bodies are pretty stupid things, by all accounts. Can’t always control when or why you get an erection. Whenever you’re ready to try to have sex again, go for it, I suppose. Just be clear with whoever it is what your limits are and stop if you need to.” He plants a kiss on top of his head, and Jim smiles.

“I think...whenever I’m ready...would you?” Jim asks quietly. He can feel his heart racing, almost embarrassed to ask. “I mean, you’re the only person I really trust right now besides Chekov, and I’m not attracted to him,” Jim adds quickly, mentally kicking himself.

Bones makes an interested sound and sits up. “Look at me, Jim.”

Jim sits up as well.

“You know you don’t owe me anything, right?”

“I know,” Jim says softly.

Bones searches his face for a hint of dishonesty, and finding none, nods. “Sure. Whatever you need Jim, I’ll try to give it to you.”

“Anything?” Jim leans forward and presses a tentative kiss to the side of Bones’ mouth.

“Anything at all,” Bones mutters, smiling against Jim’s lips.

It’s the gentility of Bones’ lips against his, careful yet teasing that makes Jim shiver. He ends up leaning against Bones’ shoulder, content to let Bones scratch his head while they sit in a comfortable silence. He doesn’t think to ask if Bones wants to leave, assuming that Bones will just go when he’s ready, but then it’s late, and Bones is still there. Jim lets him know he can go, but the hesitancy in his voice betrays him.

“Do you want me to stay?” Bones asks.

Jim bites his lip and looks at his hand, still entwined with Bones’. “Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Jim, what have I been trying to tell you all night?” Bones asks as he moves to the couch in the semi-partitioned off sitting room.

“Don’t be afraid to ask for what I want,” Jim sighs. “Wait, why are you going in there?”

“Do you want me to sleep in your bed?” Bones ask with genuine curiosity. Jim considers it for a moment. He’d feel more comfortable with Bones closer, but at the same time...

“Sleep in bed with me and we’ll put a pillow between us,” Jim decides.

As they get ready for sleep, Jim tries to remain calm. He’s not sure why he’s so nervous about this, knows that Bones wouldn’t hurt him, much less in his sleep, but when they crawl in, he’s shaking so bad that Bones hesitates before lifting the covers.

“You okay?”

“I think I’m just,” Jim takes a slow, deep breath, “afraid of having a bad dream and hurting you.”

Bones is quiet for a moment. “Should I sleep on the couch?”

Jim nods. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Bones smiles reassuringly and takes his pillow to the couch. “I’ll wake you up if you’re having a bad dream, all right?”

“You’re not mad?”

Bones tilts his head and frowns. “Why would I be mad about you asserting your personal space?”

“I just...if I had asked that of Carol, she would have gotten upset...” Jim trails off, realizing how silly he sounds. Bones isn’t Carol.

“I bet she would have been more compliant if you had told her what you were feeling instead of getting mad at her,” is all Bones says on the matter. “Can I hug you goodnight?”

Jim walks over, arms out wide, and swings his arms around Bones’ neck. “Thank you for being so understanding about everything.”

Bones’ hugs him back and mutters, “Just doin’ my job, kid.”

Jim finds himself getting to sleep much easier with Bones’ presence a couple of feet away. The snores he used to find obnoxious now act as a lullaby, singing Jim to sleep with a rugged rhythm. It’s the sound of not being alone, of being protected. Jim looks forward to his shift the next day and knowing he can rest easier with a detail posted outside the bridge. He can look Uhura in the eye and not be afraid to let her see, let Spock talk to him and not fear what may come out. He plans on clearing things up with Carol, but baby steps.

The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step, and Jim takes it as he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
